In No Man's Land
by KatyRye
Summary: Just in time for Halloween. I have a christmas anthology, but here is my Halloween one All characters, all ships, all stories Halloween
1. Introduction

Dear Readers,

I am sorry. This is just the introduction to this anthology titled _In No Man's Land_ , and not a chapter. I have been planning this for a long time. I am a legit horror movie buff, you can tell by the kind of stories I post. I am not to big on gore, but I am a ghost movie gal. I realize that — apart from _In the cold dead of winter_ — I have never written a ghost story before. I have never finished that, but I will have one like it in here. In honor of Halloween, I want to try my hand at the paranormal. I am a Christian, and I believe that you should not research these things or evil may find you. Oddly, I am also a skeptic. However, I have seen so many movies, documentaries, and reddit stories that I feel capable. I hope you like these. They will be different characters — mostly Sara but strictly CSI— and I want to spook you. That is my goal. If you scare easy, don't read. If you don't scare easy, I will try. This, like my Christmas stories, are only for Halloween, but can be enjoyed anytime — just know I won't update on Thanksgiving.

Katy


	2. The Mirror ( Part One)

~8~

The Mirror: Part One

~8~

Sara was never a believer in the paranormal, and she hoped there was something after life, but her lack of ghostly encounters made her a skeptic. When she found the mirror, her opinion of all to that changed. If there was one thing she regretted, it was buying the mirror. She wished she had never laid eyes on it — she would have spared herself a lot of fear.

The first time she saw it was on a spur-of-the-moment flea marketing expedition with her husband, Gil. While he was more occupied in browsing books or old electronics, she was drawn to old, handcrafted furniture. The mirror was laying on its side behind an old dresser, and when she saw it she felt an electric pull— as if it were calling her name. Slowly she abandoned her husband, clambered back to the mirror, and slid it from its hiding place. It was full length, and the frame around the glass was obviously hand-carved— it was exactly what she had been looking for.

"Oh, it's perfect," she sighed as she brushed dust off the mirror. "I want it."

She turned to her husband, who had now made his way over to stand beside her. He took it from her, and he looked it up and down. With a shrug he passed it back. "If you like it," he said.

"Excuse me," Sara said to the owner of the booth. "How much for this mirror?"

~8~

"Bring it up here," Sara said as she climbed the staircase.

Behind her, Gil was busy navigating carefully so as to not scuff the wall. They had recently purchased their spacious two-story home, and he wasn't ready to patch up holes in the wall.

"I'm going to hang it in the nursery," Sara said as Gil rested it against a wall. "Well, after I sand it down and stain it, of course."

She was only a few months along in her pregnancy, but she figured that there was no time like the present to start decorating for their new arrival. She wanted the room to look original and authentic, not like one of those modern nurseries from a parenting magazine.

"I think it's just wonderful," she said with a broad smile.

~8~

With sandpaper, Sara carefully smoothed the frame gently. She made sure to follow the grain and curves, so as not to disrupted the carvings. When she was finished, she stained the wood. After all of that, she hung it on the wall between the two closets that were in the room.

"There," she said, moving the mirror slightly so that it was straight.

She heard the stairs creak as Gil ascended them and turned to present the finished product to him, but he never entered the room. She peeked around the corner to see if he had ducked into the master bedroom, but he wasn't there.

"Gil?" she called hesitantly.

"Yeah?" he responded from downstairs.

Sara wrinkled her forehead, but shook her head. "Nothing… nevermind," she said.

~8~

The next week, Sara found an old fashioned armoire for the nursery. She had delivery men bring it to the house, up the stairs, and into the nursery. She was content with how well everything was coming together, and she turned to take in the sight of the room. In the mirror she caught the shadow of one of the movers in the upstairs hallway.

"Forget something?" Sara asked.

There was nobody behind her. She looked back into the mirror, and then she looked into the hallway, but there was nobody there. She was alone in the house.

Sara shook her head. "Someone needs a break," she said to herself.

~8~

Gil worked late on Tuesday nights, which was something she hated yet accepted at the same time. It was on one of these nights that, as she was emptying the dishwasher, she heard a long, groaning creak. She straightened up and stood still, straining her ears for the sound. When none came, she returned to her work.

They had been living in their home for nearly a month. Boxes stood to the side, unpacked and waiting. The home was old fashioned, and it reflected hers and Gil's taste exactly. The layout was unique in that the kitchen was at the front of the house, and the living-room was in the back. The bedrooms were all upstairs, but there was a small room downstairs that they used as an office. The nursery was located directly above the kitchen.

"Pregnancy brain," she said to herself as she closed the dishwasher and started it.

She moved the packed boxes that were sitton to the side and opened one that contained various kitchen things. As she pulled them out, she began to feel odd. The tiny hairs on the back of her neck began to stand up and she felt as if somebody was watching her. She turned, half expecting to see Gil standing there. However, like before, there was no one. Suddenly, the house began to feel very large, and she felt small in comparison to it.

 _Thump_

Sara twirled around to see that the dishwasher door, that she thought she had closed, had fallen open. With a sigh she hurried to it and shut it again. Then, she opened it again and tested the handle.

"Get a grip… get a grip… get a grip," she repeated to herself.

Then she heard it again, the long, creaking noise that was coming from above her. Her heart began to pound wildly and she felt frozen in place. She wanted to leave the house, and make a break for the front door, but she felt as if her feet were legitly glued to the floor.

 _Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump._

The noises that she was hearing now sounded as if someone, in heavy work boots, was walking out of the nursery and towards the staircase. Quickly she forced herself to move, snatched her phone off the counter, and bolted out the door.

~8~

"Mam, we looked high and low," the officer said to her. "but we never found anyone. There was no sign of a forced entry."

Sara was seated on a neighbor's porch. She refused to return to the house until Gil came home, and then it would probably be a stretch. Everyone was looking at her like she was crazy, but she knew what she heard.

"I… know there was someone in there," she said, pointing towards her house.

As she said these words, Gil pulled into the driveway. He was out of his car and at the neighbor's house in an instant. When he saw Sara on the porch, he looked relieved and opened his arms to embrace her.

"What's wrong?" he asked as she descended the stairs. "What happened?"

Sara walked into his arms and let them close around her. Her husband's embrace was always comforting to her, and it always warmed her heart.

"There was someone in the house," she told him. "I know what I heard."

Gil looked at the officer who standing to the side. "We didn't find anything," the officer insisted.

~8~

"I heard them upstairs," Sara directed.

Gil led the way, but Sara lagged behind. Not because she was afraid, but she was beginning to feel embarrassed. The police found no evidence of someone being in their home, and she knew that her husband was about to discover the same thing.

"In here?" he asked her, pointing at the nursery.

Sara nodded with a sigh. She was beginning to agree with everyone else; she had imagined the entire thing. Gil pushed the door open with his toe. Her worst fears were confirmed; there was nobody in the room — or the entire house. He walked into the room and opened both closets.

"I… I could have sworn," she said. "God, maybe I'm losing my mind."

Gil walked over to her and pulled her close. "A lot of change equals a lot of stress," he said. "Maybe you just need a break. Go rest, I'll make us something to eat."

Sara nodded. "You're right," she said. "I'm going to go soak. I want pasta."

~8~

Gil was right, she did need a break. After taking time off from work, learning she was pregnant, moving to a new home, and preparing for said baby, she was due for a break. After her soak, Gil served her mushroom alfredo in bed. She felt spoiled as he massaged her feet and asked her about her day. They fell asleep after watching an old western movie, with Gil's loving arms around her.

~8~

Something pulled her from her sleep, but she she couldn't remember what it was. She looked back at the clock and noticed that it was exactly three in the morning and she sighed with frustration. The baby inside of her began to squirm and she put a hand on her belly.

She stood on wobbly legs and the floorboards underneath her creaked. Everything around her was dark, and not even the moon was shining through the windows. The only sounds Sara could hear were Gil's snores.

She was thirsty, but, even though she wasn't a child anymore, the thought of going downstairs alone scared her. It was foolish to be afraid, after all she had been a CSI and had stared into the eyes of death on numerous occasions.

"Just stop it," she whispered to herself.

She forced herself to walk, but it felt as if she were wading through thick mud. The floorboards creaked under her bare feet as she traveled, making the darkness around her that much more eerie. As quickly as she could, like a little girl, she descended the stairs. She was relieved to see that Gil had left the light over the sink on. Though it cast only a soft glow, it felt like a lighthouse directing her through treacherous, dark waves.

When she reached the refrigerator she opened it soundlessly, pulled out a gallon of orange juice, uncapped it, and drank directly from the carton. The juice felt good and soothed her dry mouth. Gil didn't like to drink from the carton, but what he didn't know wouldn't hurt him.

After she returned the juice, she heard the low familiar creak behind her. She took mental inventory of everything that was against her: she was in the dark, in her shorts, without Gil, and it was cold. She took a deep breath, and let the air out quickly through her nose. She had it with all of this irrational fear, this had to stop. Quickly she turned, but froze when she saw that every cabinet stood open and every drawer was pulled out.

~8~

"I'm telling you, Gil," Sara said. "I came down for some juice and I turned and all the cabinets were standing wide open. We need that short girl from _Poltergeist_ to come in here and clean this house."

Gil stood in the middle of the kitchen, staring at the cabinets and drawers. Sara had screamed at top of her lungs when she saw them, and it didn't take long for Gil to respond. He rushed down the stairs and had snapped on every light downstairs.

"Honey," he started. "I don't… were you sleep walking? Does that run in your family?"

Sara was growing frustrated with the situation and with herself. Mental illness did run in her family, but she was a healthy woman. She began to shut all the cabinets and drawers, all the while ignoring Gil.

"Hey," he said, taking her by the arm gently. "What's really the matter?"

"Nothing is wrong with _me,_ " she said to him. "There is something else in this house. I am not crazy, I know what I am hearing and seeing."

"Well what can I do?" he asked her. "Go out to Toys 'R' Us and get a Ouija board?"

Sara held up her hand and shook her head. "I don't think that'll be a good idea," she said. "Maybe we can have the house blessed."

Gil sat down at the table. "I thought you didn't believe in any of this stuff," he said.

Sara looked at him seriously. "There is something in here going through my damn cabinets," she said. "It isn't time to be splitting hairs," she looked up at the ceiling. "You better knock it off!"

* * *

~8~

* * *

A/M : Well, it starts. My anthology. This story will have three parts, the next story in this will be called 'Mr. No Face'. Muahahah .. Happy Halloween! REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW.


	3. The Mirror ( Part Two)

**~8~**

 **The Mirror: Part Two**

 **~8~**

"We don't belong to a church," Sara explained. "but I hoped that we could ask someone over. I'm not really a believer in a lot of these things."

The priest, whom Sara had found through a friend, opened a small bag. "Well, the fact that you've called someone of the cloth for help shows that you do indeed believe in something."

She was quiet as he set out a small vile, a bible, and a crucifix. "Do you want some coffee?" she asked, turning to the kitchen. "This morning something blew all of my coffee mugs out of the cabinet, but I have a few plastic cups."

The priest held up his hand. "I'm fine," he said. "I'd like to get started."

"Oh," Sara said as she looked around her. "Okay. Well, all the action so far has been in the kitchen. So, I guess you can start there."

He nodded and began to walk about the house. Sara stood back, unsure of what she should be doing. Gil was the one who was Catholic. Her mother had taken her to church when she was young, and a few of the families that she had stayed with were religious. To say that she felt like a fish out of water, was an understatement.

~8~

After the priest left, Sara tried to relax. She told herself that it had worked and that the angry spirits had be vanquished, yet for some reason she was doubtful. Her body still buzzed with electricity and she felt restless. When Gil came home from work, she told him that the house had been blessed.

"Well, I hope it makes you feel better," he said.

"Why aren't you listening to me?" she asked. "Have you ever known me to be hysterical like this? Do you think I came into the kitchen and opened all of the drawers and cabinets by myself?"

Gil shook his head. "Of course not," he said. "We do live in California. Maybe there was a tremor and—"

"No!" Sara stated. "I was standing right here and I turned around and saw it."

As he walked past, Gil kissed her on the cheek. "I have to lie down," he said. "I'm exhausted."

~8~

For a few days, everything stopped. It was difficult for her to sleep at night, and Gil's doubting made her uneasy. The tension was thick between them, and it angered Sara. She didn't even want to be in the same room with him. This also saddened her at the same time because this was not the kind of couple they were. They were a loving, caring couple.

Everyday seemed to feel the same. Gil would go to work and Sara would lay in bed. She felt as if her energy was draining out of her, but she attributed it to her pregnancy. She didn't want to clean… she didn't want to decorate the nursery… and she didn't want to speak to Gil. Oddly, the only thing that she wanted to do sit in front of her antique mirror and look at herself.

She only did this while Gil was gone. It felt as if an invisible pair of hands were pulling her towards it. It never occurred to her that that was where all of her energy was going. Day after day, this is what she did after Gil left for work. She would step away and use the restroom and she would eat, but all of her time was spent staring into her own reflection.

One day Gil came home early. She had been staring into to mirror so intently, that she didn't hear him come up the stairs. When he saw her, he hurried over and shook her shoulders. As if she were waking from a dream, she turned to him.

"What are you doing?" he asked in a worried voice.

Sara looked around her. "I… I have no idea what I'm doing," she drowsily.

Gil looked his wife up and down. She didn't look healthy, and he was surprised that he hadn't noticed it before. How long had she been like this? Did she do this everyday?

"Talk to me," he said to her. "I love you. What's happening?"

~8~

Gil sat at the kitchen table. He was contemplating taking Sara to a doctor, but he wasn't sure if she was just stressed from change or if she was in serious danger. _He_ didn't believe something was in the house, but _she_ believed that there was. In a honesty, he knew that her paranoia had started when she had brought that mirror into the house; he didn't like it. He thought it looked too over-the-top for a baby's nursery.

He heard the stairs creak and rose to intercept Sara as she made her way down. She needed to be in bed; she didn't look how an expectant mother should. He walked over to the staircase to greet her, but she wasn't there. There was nobody there, but at the top of the staircase was a black, shadowy mass.

Gil flipped on the light, and the mass seemed to have disappeared. He flipped it off, but then it appeared again. It was still early evening, and the sun hadn't gone down yet. This meant to there was no reason for a shadow to even exist where it was. But when he flipped the lights again, it was there.

"Sara?" he said as he slowly ascended the stairs.

Something started the scare him, and his skin began to crawl as if thousands of tiny ants had begun to travel up and down his arms and legs. As he neared the top of the staircase, the shadow, or whatever it had been, vanished as if it had been sucked backwards into a vacuum cleaner. Gil stood still, staring at the place it had been.

* * *

~8~

* * *

 **This is very short tonight. I need to rest. I am sorry. Part three will be done soon and then it is on to a new story in the anthology. I hope you like it. Give this story a review if you do. MOVIE RECOMMENDATION : The Final Girls. Check out the trailer.**


	4. The Mirror (Final Part)

**~8~**

 **The Mirror: Final Part**

 **~8~**

"See!" Sara said. "I told you! We need to call the ghostbusters. Apparently the blessing didn't work!"

After Gil had seen the shadow disappear, he had woken Sara and told her about what he had seen. Her face had lit up with relief, because now he believed her. They had a big problem, though. Whatever was haunting them was still in the house.

"Maybe we should contact it," Sara suggested. "Maybe it has some unfinished business."

Gil shook his head. "That could backfire," he said.

Sara threw up her hands. "Well, what do you suggest? Do you know any mediums? Ghost hunters? Exorcists?"

Gil shook his head. "Maybe we should move," he said. "Just give it the house."

Sara made a disgusted face. "This is _my_ house, and I'll be damned before something makes me leave."

~8~

She didn't have the energy, but Sara began to decorate the nursery again. When she was younger, she told herself that if she ever had a child, then its room would be mint green. She loved how neutral and relaxing the color was. It was so easy on the eyes. Today, she had carried cans of paint up into the room, spread out a drop-cloth, and had dressed herself in old clothes. She was going to paint the room if it killed her.

With music blaring, the house wasn't so scary. She sang along as she dipped rollers in the pant and set to work. After an hour, she had her mind so invested in her work, that she had forgotten her fears.

~8~

Sara had fallen asleep after she had finished, and when Gil came home she drug herself out of bed to show him the painted walls. She felt so accomplished and proud of herself. With a smile she took him by the wrist and stood him front of the door.

"Close your eyes," she said with a grin.

He did and Sara rested her hand on the knob. With a burst of energy she threw it open to see… nothing. The walls — that she had thought she painted – were still the same eggshell white that they were before.

"What?!" Sara exclaimed. "No… I don't understand."

Gil opened his eyes and watched Sara as she went to the walls to place her hands on them. The look on her face told him that this was not what she was expecting to find.

"Sara?" he asked. "Maybe we should go take a break somewhere."

"No, I swear to God I painted these walls. I had music playing, I set out a cloth, and I worked all day!"

Gil was torn. He wanted to believe her — after all he hadn't believed her before and she had been right. Still, it was obvious that the walls _hadn't_ been painted.

"Ok," he said, putting his hands on her shoulders. "I believe you."

~8~

That night, Sara had distorted dreams. She dreamed that she was in a lake and was trying to paddle across to someone. In her arms, she held her baby. She didn't know if it was a girl or a boy, she didn't see it's face. But she heard it's small, helpless cries arise from the bundle.

"Come on," a voice called to her in a whisper. "Bring it to us."

Sara stopped paddling, and she began to row backwards. There was something about the voices and the fact she couldn't see anyone clearly. The other side of the lake was dark.

"Why do you want her?" she asked.

 _So it was a girl baby._

"For power," they whispered back.

When she awoke from the dream, she wasn't in bed anymore. Instead, she was standing in front of the mirror.

~8~

That was when she began to suspect the mirror, but she needed to be sure. After Gil had left for work, she drove out to the flea-market where she had purchased it. It took an hour of wandering down aisles of booths in order to find the old man she bought it from.

"Excuse me," she said when she saw him. "I bought a mirror from you and I just want to ask you a few questions about it."

The old man turned to her. "It's yours now, no refunds," he said, pointing to a sign.

Sara shook her head. "I'm not trying to return it," she said. "I just want to know some of the history."

"Twas' my wife's," he said. "She got it from my mother-in-law, and she got it from her my mother-in-law."

"Well, I've been having some weird things happen," she said. "Has any ever—"

"You're pregnant," he stated.

Sara was taken aback. "How… did…"

"Get rid of it," he said to her. "We never had any children of our own. That's the reason we were handed the mirror. Families with children can't own it. It'll take the child."

~8~

That was all Sara needed to hear. When she pulled into the driveway, she left the car running. She hurried into the house and upstairs, but when she reached the top, she felt as if an invisible hand was holding her back from the nursery. It took all of her willpower to resist the force, but she did.

When she entered the room, the temperature dropped noticeably. She shivered, and when she blew out, she saw her breath. Still she wasn't deterred, and she grasped the mirror. It seemed to weigh more than it had when she had bought it, but she managed to drag it down the stairs and into the car.

She knew exactly where she was headed: an abandoned building where people discarded their unwanted furniture. As she drove, she felt as if something was in the backseat watching her. Even though there was nothing in the car with her but the mirror, she knew that there was a possibility that she was being watched.

Horrible thoughts began to fill her mind and the urge to turn the car around was strong. She kept thinking of how beautiful it was hanging on her wall, but she forced herself to stay on track. Her baby was at stake here.

Finally she saw the building and screeched to a halt. In a flash she was out of the driver's seat. She pulled the mirror out of the car and dragged it to a pile of other discarded furniture. But she didn't stop there. To the side she saw a shovel. She picked up and, with rage, hit the mirror.

~8~

When she returned home, Sara no longer felt a dark cloud looming over her. Instead, she felt as she once had. Gil's car was in the driveway, and for the first time in weeks she wanted to see him. She missed him, and she was sure he would want to hear the story she had to tell.

 **~8~**

 **The End**

 **~8~**


	5. The Board ( Part One)

**Dear Readers,**

 _ **Mr. No-Face**_ **ran into a snag. I am going to upload a quickie-flick called** _ **The Board**_ **. I hope you like it. This one is for Sunni. Sunni, I love you. Have a good day. This is a grillows flicket. I hope I do it justice. This is kind of the first time I have never used a GSR crutch, but I want to see what I can do with my powers ( muhahaha).**

 **~katy**

* * *

~8~

The Board ( Part One)

* * *

Catherine Willows was never one to really believe the ghost stories that she had been told as a child. She had never really played with an Ouija board, but she had friends who claimed they had. They all told tales of plates flying out of cabinets, drawers opening, or faucets turning on and off. As she grew older, she drifted apart from her friends. When she entered the adult world and had a child of her own, Ouija boards were put into the category of 'Childish Things'.

If it hadn't been for Greg's experiment with one of the aforementioned boards, she would never have gotten herself into the situation that she was currently in. And what situation is that, you ask? Catherine Willows was now being stalked by a poltergeist. She had always imagine that spooks were created from childish imaginations, but now she knew the truth. Let's look back to when it all began…

~8~

"Greg," Catherine said as she lifted the game, still in it's box and covered in plastic. "Why do you have an Ouija board? And in the workplace? Keep your toys at home."

Greg hurried over and took the game from her hands. " _This_ is not a game, may I remind you," he said matter-o-factly. And I bought it on my break. Just so happens, it is sitting here."

Catherine looked at him blankly. "Why not keep it in your car?" she asked.

"Cause Nick and I are going to do some conjuring," he said with a smile. "Wanna join?"

Catherine shook her head, her blond hair bouncing as she did so. "I'll pass," she said, tossing the game back on the table. "I want to spend my time off with people who are named 'Milton' or 'Bradley'."

~8~

When graveyard shift — which is an appropriate title for this tale — came to an end, Catherine walked Grissom towards the exit. They were discussing a case they had been working on and there voices were low. So low, in fact, that they could clearly hear Nick and Greg prepare for their festivities. Her two male co-workers walked out of the locker room, saw her, and raised the board.

"Last call," Nick joked. "Sara opted out."

"What do you have an Ouija board for?" Grissom asked.

"You know Bob, from day shift? He swears there is a ghost in the lab's garage. We're just trying to either prove or disprove that theory," Greg explained. "I'm sure it won't be too hard."

Grissom, who had always been knowledgeable of all things random, shook his head. "That's not a game. Do you know the rules?" he asked.

Greg flipped over the box. "Two to five players—" he started.

Grissom frowned. "Not the rules on the box!" he said.

Nick frowned and then looked at Greg. "I guess not then," he said.

Grissom stepped forward and took the box. "Come on then," he said

The other three investigators looked at one another in disbelief. Grissom rarely included himself on outings anymore, and to have him include himself in this was beyond out-of-character for him. Perhaps it was his scientific personality — that required him to have tangible, viable evidence — that convinced him to play.

~8~

Grissom set a lit candle beside the board and nodded for everyone to take a seat at the folding table. Catherine took a seat as well. Not because she was interested in the game, but seeing Grissom interact was always interesting.

"We can't break the circle," Grissom explained. "it's a circle of protection."

Catherine chuckled. "I can't believe you are into this," she joked.

"Well," Grissom said. "I'm not going to let these two contact another plane if they don't know what they are doing."

"And you do?" she asked.

Grissom shrugged. "I like to make myself knowledgeable in all areas of science," he explained. "And the paranormal is science, believe it or not."

"Okay, so we have our… circle of protection," Nick said. "What else?"

"You never ask a spirit their name," Grissom said in a serious tone.

"How come?" Greg asked. "Do we just call it 'spirit'?"

"You don't call it anything," Grissom said. "A name is a way of forming a bond with something. Once you establish a bond… it may increase the likelihood of being haunted," he continued. "You never use a board alone, you never ask about God, and you always say good-bye."

"Well you should never play alone because it'll make you vulnerable," Nick said.

"And we should say goodbye so that the spirit know we've ended the conversation," Greg added.

"But why are we not supposed to ask about God?" Catherine asked.

"I guess that isn't for us to know about," Grissom replied to her, his tone low and comforting.

Greg began placed his fingers on the white planchette. "Well," he joked with a smile. "Let's get started."

Catherine shrugged and everyone in the circle placed their fingers on the piece. Everyone was silent because each person was waiting for the other to speak. Finally, Nick cleared his throat.

"Are there any um… restless spirits in the room?" he asked.

Everyone looked down at the planchette with anticipation. Catherine had hoped that she would at least feel something — a bolt of electricity maybe. She swiveled her eyes sideways to look at her supervisor. She was growing bored of the spooky ghost-summoning mumbo-jumbo. She wanted to leave and talk to Grissom in privacy; she had things she needed to say.

"I think it moved!" Greg said with more excitement than was required.

"It didn't," Catherine huffed, growing bored. "I'm out of here."

"Wait!" Grissom said to her, taking her hand and squeezing it hard. "Don't break the circle. We may have made contact. We need to be careful."

Catherine really couldn't believe what she was hearing. He was behaving like Peter Venkman off of _Ghostbusters._ Though he claimed to be interested in the science of it, he was acting ridiculous. Though she had feelings for him — which were unrequited at the moment — she couldn't relate.

"For God sakes, Gil," she said, as she pulled her hand out of his warm grasp.

"Catherine!" Grissom called as she walked away.

The three men watched her as she left, and then Grissom turned to them. "Let's say goodbye," he said.

* * *

~8~

* * *

 **To be able to continue, I need to have at least five or six reviews. Though I LOVE to write, if I feel a story is not being enjoyed I will delete it. I don't want to waste anyone's time. So, if you enjoy me or my work. Give me a like, comment, review, add me on facebook, or send a smoke signal.**


End file.
